


Obviously not

by midnightsummergirl



Category: Outlander (TV) RPF
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-27
Updated: 2017-08-24
Packaged: 2018-12-07 19:21:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 7,789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11630214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/midnightsummergirl/pseuds/midnightsummergirl
Summary: “Caitriona and I are obviously not together.”





	1. Chapter 1

 

 

“Caitriona and I are obviously not together.” Sam’s words are like a stab in Cait’s heart with a giant sword. They even penetrate her soul.

 

_Why does he have to say something like this in front of the camera?_ She tries to look cool. Fake laughter does the trick, but she can’t make her eyes smile. That would take too much of her and she’d break down. Thankfully, the interview is over shortly after that.

 

Cait leaves the interview room quickly without saying anything. The convention center is suffocating her. She has to get away from the stuffy air, the crowded halls, the cameras. Away from him. She presses the elevator button repeatedly, but the elevator just won’t come. Everything is against her today. She sees Sam coming out of the interview room and panics. She can’t face him. Not now. She slips through the emergency exit before anyone sees her. The fire escape stairs are for emergencies, and this is one.

 

It’s a beautiful Californian summer night, but it’s still chilly near the ocean. Wearing only a tank top, she shivers. She loves California. Always has. Her nights here have always been filled with food, drink, art, and music. This one is only filled with despair and her spiraling thoughts. She knows he doesn’t love her, but she has gotten used to pretending that he did. It was just for the fans, but they were his touches and glances nonetheless.

 

Her feet direct her toward the marina park at a run, and the world turns into a blur. By the time she reaches the ocean, silent tears are running down her face. She shouldn’t have fallen for him, but she fell hard. The kind of fallen where she gets excited just reading his name. The kind where her heart is so full of him that he’s all she can think or talk about.

 

She sits down on the rocks by the ocean. The rush of the waves is as raw as her emotions. Her whole body trembles and salty drops fall from her chin. She can’t go back to the convention center. Not today, not ever. She can’t play Claire anymore—she’s sick of pretending. They’ll find someone else, someone less naive. And one day she’ll get over him. With time and distance. Probably lots of both. She’ll forget his smell of soap and musky perfume, and his lips that taste like spring.


	2. Chapter 2

 

 

Sam lays down on his king-sized bed. _Gotta love the Hyatt._ He drinks beer even though the whole cast will go out for drinks later at night. Today was very successful—the fans loved them and he thoroughly enjoyed himself. He checks the social media alerts on his phone. He always reads as many comments as possible to get a feeling for the fandom. A very recently uploaded YouTube video catches his eye while browsing: “Cait from Outlander—Major Breakdown!”

 

It _is_ Cait in the video. She runs toward the ocean wearing the same tank top she wore today. The one that accentuates her assets in a classy way.

 

She passes the camera without noticing it. She’s barefoot and crying. His heart sinks. Why is his beautiful lass so troubled and alone? This must have happened not long ago. He doesn’t bother finishing the video, closing it to call her right away, but she doesn’t pick up. Should he call the police?

 

_No, Lisa first._ He paces around his room until Cait’s friend finally picks up. “Hey, have you seen Cait?”

 

“Well hello to you too, Mr. Heughan. Fancy getting a call from you.”

 

“Please, it’s urgent. Have you seen her?”

 

“Why would you care? You two are obviously not together.”

 

“Please, Lisa. I’m worried sick. Is she with you?”

 

“No, but she’s staying at the Hyatt as well. Shouldn’t be too hard to find. Why are you so worried?”

 

“Never mind. Talk to you later.” He grabs his jacket and leaves the hotel in a hurry. The marina isn’t far way. He has to find her. _Has she broken up with her boyfriend?_ Oh, he wishes. _Hopefully, she hasn’t been robbed or assaulted._

 

It’s cold outside. _She must be freezing if she’s still out here._ All he wants is to find is her safe in his arms. He runs as fast as he can and passes a million boats. Finally, he can take a right into the park. It’s getting dark, and he searches the rocks for his favorite silhouette.

 

_There she is._ Cait hugs her legs, and her hair and skirt blow in the breeze. She’s as breathtaking as ever. Sam calls her, but she doesn’t react. She keeps staring at the horizon. He climbs over the rocks and sits down next to her. She has stopped crying, but her lashes are heavy with tears. From her soft heart to her effortless beauty, he admires everything about her. “Cait?”

 

She sobs. Her pain is palpable. He wants to kiss her head, kiss her pain away, but he has to be careful. If someone’s still filming, he doesn’t want to do anything that’ll get him killed by her boyfriend. Sam wraps his jacket around her and rubs her arms for warmth.

 

“Please. Don’t.” Her voice is barely more than a whisper. Sobs rip through her body.

 

“Come on, I’ll get you home.” He stands up and reaches for her hand.

 

It takes a while before she grabs his hand. Her feet are covered in bloody cuts, and she whimpers as she stands. “I don’t think I can walk.”

 

He places one arm around her back, the other lifts her legs. She immediately holds onto him. Her hair smells of vanilla and Scotland. Of home. Sam keeps her close to his body. This is the most intimate moment they’ve ever had offscreen. He wants to savor it and commit it to his memory. They reach the street all too soon, and he calls a cab to the Hyatt.

 

In the cab, she scoots as far away from him as possible. He understands, even though it’s painful. “Shall I call Tony to pick you up from the cab?”

 

She hesitates. “He . . . um . . . he’s out tonight. And I left my purse at the convention center. I don’t have my key card.” She looks embarrassed and stressed out.

 

What a bastard not to celebrate Comic-Con with her. It’s time to push his luck. “No offense, but you’re probably too heavy for Lisa.” Maybe this is a little offensive. He tries to make it up to her by flashing his charming smile. “I guess I’ll have to carry you to my room.”

 

“People will talk.”

 

“Let them talk.”


	3. Chapter 3

 

 

He lifts her out of the cab with utmost care. His arms are strong yet tender. Cait hates that she loves the soothing feeling of being so close to him. Why does he have to touch her so often—tonight of all nights? She should deny him, but her body and her heart are weak. She’s tired from her breakdown, no fight is left in her. Tomorrow she’ll resign. She’ll stop this charade and save what’s left of her wounded heart.

 

He studies her in the mirror of the elevator. He must notice her puffy eyes and disheveled hair. She looks horrible.

 

They don’t speak on the way to his room. _Will his girlfriend be there?_ Seeing them kiss would kill her. What does he see in Mackenzie that he doesn’t see in her? Maybe it’s Mackenzie’s youth and beauty. Cait has a few wrinkles around her eyes already, and he fancies blondes. She once asked her hairdresser what it would take to color her hair blond, and feels pathetic for having considered it.

 

Once inside his room, he sits her down at the foot of his huge bed. “I’ll patch up your feet.” He takes the champagne out of the ice and goes into the bathroom. He comes back with the champagne bucket full of soapy water. “We better clean them first.” The bed is too high, so he constructs a prop with two fancy cushions underneath the bucket for the perfect height. “This is going to hurt. You might want some of this champagne first.”

 

These are her last minutes with him, and she might as well enjoy them. “Thanks for doing this, Sam. Sorry I was so grumpy. Today is not my day.”

 

He chuckles and points to her feet. “You have every right to be grumpy, but this Krug Grande Cuvée will ease the pain.” He opens the expensive bottle with a pop. “I’m glad you’re helping me with it. Don’t know why they would give this to a Scot. I would’ve preferred a fine whiskey.”

 

Alcohol is an excellent and terrible idea. She takes the bottle out of his hand and drinks straight from it. He grins at that, and she chuckles. “I’m not in the mood for fancy champagne glasses.” She doesn’t want to mention his girl, but she has to find out whether she could show up any minute. “Mackenzie doesn’t mind if we’re drinking it without her?”

 

“She is staying at a friend’s house tonight.” Sam’s poker face is impeccable, and she doesn’t know what this means. He gulps down some champagne, hands it back to her and kneels down in front of the bed. He gently takes her feet and lowers them into the water. “Is the temperature okay?”

 

“Perfect, thanks.”

 

“I’ll get the first aid kit from the bathroom.” He removes the glass splinters with the tweezers and softly rubs her feet with a washcloth to clean them of dirt and blood. He holds the bottom of her foot with both hands and caresses the top with his thumbs. He never looks up. It feels incredibly intimate. No one has ever attended to her feet with such care. She definitely needs more champagne. It may be the alcohol, but she suddenly feels hot and takes off his jacket.

 

“Um . . . they’re clean.” He looks flustered. He dries her feet and applies some disinfectant and bandages.

 

She lays down on his bed. It smells of Sam. “How did you know where I was?”

 

“YouTube. Why were you barefoot?”

 

“Fire escape.”

 

Both laugh at their half-answers. Cait is glad this broke the intimate atmosphere. Her stomach growls because she hasn’t eaten anything all day.

 

“I’m hungry as well. Let’s see what seven hundred dollars a night bought us.” His arms are suddenly full of snacks, and he unloads them all on the bed. He also brings the chocolate-covered strawberries that came with the champagne and lays down next to her.

 

“I love strawberries.” She eats them greedily while he munches M&M’s.

 

They talk about stubborn horses and smoky pubs. She laughs wholeheartedly when he manages to spill more champagne on his face than in his mouth.

 

His demeanor changes and his eyes turn dark. “You’re beautiful, Cait.” His voice is husky.

 

She covers her face with a pillow to hide her grin and embarrassment. She has to leave before she does something stupid. Well, more stupid than coming to his room in the first place. “It’s getting late. I’ll sleep in Lisa’s room.”

 

“Okay.” There’s his poker face again. “Can you walk?”

 

“My feet feel better.” She gets up and limps to the door.

 

_So this is it._ “Good night, Sam. Thank you for everything.”

 

_Everything._

 

“Good night, Cait.”

 

As he closes the door behind her, the feeling of emptiness overwhelms her. She presses her head against the cold door. Should she knock and declare her undying love for him? That wouldn’t help, he’s in love with someone else. It’s time to move on.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who has cheered me on. It means more to me than you can imagine. This chapter has been quite a journey - and not just for Sam. Please note that I changed the name of Cait's mother to a fictional name.

 

 

Sam paces around his room after Cait has left. _Shit, shit, shit_. Has he just carried his co-worker to his bed, gotten her drunk, and massaged her feet? Guilty as charged. Tonight’s events replay in his mind. He looked at her once during the foot massage, but her beauty overwhelmed him. After she took off his jacket, he was a goner.

 

All reason left him after the strawberries. With a gleam in her eye, she wrapped her mouth around the berries and seductively bit into them. Her infectious smile made him stupidly and blatantly tell her she was beautiful. Why couldn’t he keep his mouth shut? He had scared her away with that.

 

He kicks the bed with all his strength. Even broken and intoxicated, she doesn’t want him. Serves him right—he should be more noble than trying to seduce someone else’s girl.

 

Why did she ask about Mackenzie? Like it was any of Cait’s business. Should he have told her the truth? No, not after all this time. It would be too pathetic.

 

He remembers the night he met Mackenzie. He and Cait were going out for drinks in LA. Cait nipped on a caipirinha with her luscious cherry lips. He had it all planned out. Later, he would ask her to accompany him to the beach in Santa Monica where he had arranged a little picnic. Under the moonlight, he would tell her about the raging fire that was burning for her inside of him.

 

It never came to that. Sam was shocked when, seemingly out of nowhere, a guy appeared and gave Cait a peck on her lips. She introduced him as her boyfriend Tony. Sam’s heart broke and a lump formed in his throat. It threatened to choke him, so he fled to the bar to order a double Laphroaig.

 

A few gulps into his drink, a cute blonde approached him. “You’re Sam Heughan from Outlander, right?”

 

“I guess.” He gulped down the rest of the hard liquor.

 

She stretched out her hand. “Mackenzie Mauzy. I’ve been watching you. We could help each other out, you know. I need an A-list date tomorrow, and you need to make someone jealous.” She slipped him her number and disappeared. Everything snowballed from there, and they have been in business ever since.

 

It didn’t work at all. Cait was anything but jealous of Mackenzie. To his annoyance, Cait even befriended his fake girlfriend.

 

Now, he’s crushed and alone in an impressive suite. The imprint Cait left on his bed mocks him. He decides to sleep on the couch that’s facing the ocean. Caught in a carousel of thoughts, sleep doesn’t come easily. The alarm clock in his room buzzes, striking four as Sam drowses off.

 

As the sun comes up, he rouses from his heavy slumber. His clothes feel damp even though the air conditioning is humming. He checks his phone. Twelve missed calls from his boss Ron. _Shit._ Sam hits the call button, still half-asleep.

 

“Hi Ron, it’s Sam.”

 

“Where were you two last night? Do you have any idea how important Comic Con is?” Ron sounds pissed.

 

“Um, I’m sorry, my phone was on mute. I wanted to come, but—”

 

“Save it. And then this morning, I get this lovely call from Cait telling me that she won’t play Claire anymore.”

 

“What?” Now he’s wide awake. “She said what?”

 

“She called me from the airport—she’s gone now. We’re fucked. Maril called an emergency meeting in her room in an hour. I will snap if you’re late.” With that, Ron hangs up.

 

* * *

 

A week later, Sam’s on a United flight to Dublin. In the meeting, the others uniformly decided that he was the only one who could get Cait back. To get on Ron’s good side again, he agreed instantly. _She has to come back._ Sam couldn’t do this without her. They’re in this together. If she quits, he does, too.

 

He doesn’t know how many people Ron threatened, but eventually someone leaked that she was staying with her parents in Tydavnet. Of all the places she has lived in, she picked the house she grew up in.

 

Her home is a two-hour drive north from Dublin. At 10:30 p.m., he finally arrives. With his layover in Washington, it has been a long and tiring journey. How will she react upon seeing him? She hasn’t answered any of his calls, and he misses her so much.

 

He stands in front of a small, white, Irish stand-alone house with a perfectly trimmed lawn. He exhales several times before he rings the bell. A tall, older lady opens the door.

 

“Good evening Madame. I’m Sam Heughan. I work with Cait.”

 

“What a surprise! I’m Olivia, Cait’s mother. Nice to finally meet you.”

 

“Nice to meet you too. Could I speak to her, please?”

 

“I’m afraid she’s out for the night, but please come in.” She leads him through the narrow corridors into the kitchen. Olivia is a lovely lady. Cait definitely has her mother’s good looks. Olivia offers him a beer, and they chat for a while at the kitchen table.

 

“Sam, she’s heartbroken.” She speaks with a soft voice full of concern. “I’ll tell you where to find her, but you have to promise me to be gentle with her.”

 

“Olivia, she means the world to me. I’ll take good care of her.”

 

“Thank you, Sam.”

 

Sam makes his way to Jack’s Bar. Like everything in this small town, it’s only a few minutes from the Balfes. The bar is cramped for a Tuesday night in a forgotten town. Sam scans the room for her. She stands by the piano, surrounded by a bunch of lads. He can’t blame them—she’s the most beautiful lass in the room. She’s the most beautiful lass in every room. They cheer on whoever plays something on the piano, even though most people just know the Flea Waltz.

 

When Cait’s eyes meet his, his heart starts racing and his hands get sweaty. She wears a long white dress similar to the one Claire wore coming through the stones. It makes her look intriguingly vulnerable.

 

He orders a beer at the bar and tries to casually walk over to her, but he trips on the wooden floor and spills some of his drink. When he stands next to her, her blue orbs stare into his. Sam can’t read her expression, and they don’t speak.

 

After long minutes of silently studying each other, he can’t take it anymore. “Can I get you a drink?” What a lame attempt to break the ice.

 

“I’ll have some of yours.”

 

He likes that sharing drinks with her is apparently becoming a habit. “It’s nice here.”

 

“Yeah. Piano night is always cramped.” She looks at the piano with joy in her eyes.

 

“I know you keep telling interviewers you don’t, but I know you play. Let me hear it.”

 

She blushes and looks to the floor. “I learned to play the piano at school, but I can’t play much anymore.”

 

“Come on, Balfe. Just one song. For me. Otherwise, I’ll ask your mom for old accordion videos of you.”

 

“The only song I still know by heart is Ballade Pour Adeline, but it’s not exactly a pub song.” She fidgets with her dress. “Actually, it’s kind of exposing.”

 

Could she look any more adorable? “How so?”

 

“It tells my story.”

 

“Please tell me.”

 

“My home was filled with people and laughter, but this town has always felt so barren and empty to me. Too quiet, too green, too pure. I always felt foreign. At Catholic school, we had morning prayers with specific topics. I didn’t care. For years, I always prayed the same prayer. I prayed that God would come like the wind and take me far away to a golden land full of art and music. The song is a story full of hope and new beginnings, but also of the marks the wind left in its wake.” She sits down at the piano and starts to play. She’s mesmerizing. He hears the wind rising and sees the stormy world she now lives in.

 

Once the song is over, she gets up and walks to the window. Overcome by emotions, she’s trembling.

 

Slowly, he walks up to her and wraps his arms around her from behind. “That was beautiful,” he whispers into her ear. After a few minutes, he pulls away and leads her out of the bar.


	5. Chapter 5

 

 

Her hand in his, they step into the abandoned street. The darkness is profound and still. They can’t go home to her tiny house, or else they have to awkwardly sit at the table with her parents and address the one thing she doesn’t want to talk about. She never lets go of his hand, leading him away from the town and down a winding road. He took her hand in the bar, so it’s his to let go of.

 

They cross the wet meadow, which leads to the castle ruins at the top of the hill. Her sneakers and socks are damp after only a few minutes. When she saw him at the bar, she regretted not wearing sexier shoes, but she’s glad for them now.

 

The castle is mostly gone, except for a few walls overgrown with ivy. “We would play here for hours when we were kids. We pretended that it was a castle once, but looking at it now, I think it might just have been an old house.”

 

“I like its mysterious feel. And the view is stunning.” He sits down on the cold, wet moss and takes her with him, since she’s still holding on to him. The quiet of the night envelopes them. She sits so close that she’s acutely aware of him. Heat radiates from his athletic body, which she so often secretly admired.

 

Sam is clearly checking out her legs, and his pupils are dilated. She dips her head and blushes. When he caresses her hand with his thumb, the world falls away. Cait’s heart beats loudly in her chest. Hopefully he doesn’t hear it. His other hand slowly and gently caresses her forearm. He runs his fingertips from her delicate wrist to the inward bend of her elbow. She wants to pull away before she loses herself, but the darkness has stolen her senses. If she doesn’t look him in the eyes, if she doesn’t dare speak, she can pretend it’s just a dream. He pulls her closer and wraps his strong arms around her.

 

They pant and their heavy breath mingles. Sam strokes her hair lovingly and her head tingles from his touch. Her whole body aches for his caress. No man has ever touched her with such affection.

 

“Is this okay for you?” His voice is low and husky and sends sparks to her core.

 

It’s what she so desperately wants, but it isn’t right. She won’t be the other woman. “Sam.” Her eyes fill with tears. “I . . . we can’t.”

 

He abruptly withdraws from her, and the cold of the night washes over her. Sam’s face contorts and his lower lip quivers. She has never seen him this crushed.

 

It’s all too much for her and she lays down, not caring that she’ll ruin her dress. As he lays down next to her, he growls and leaves a considerable gap between them.

 

She looks up at the sky to search for stars, but she only finds the pale and distant moon. The wind rustles through the tough grasses. “Sam, can you feel the wind?”

 

“Yeah, and the birds got quiet as well. It will start to rain soon.”

 

“I wish the wind would take us to a world where we could be together.” There, she said it.

 

He rolls onto his side to face her. “Cait, I want that too. Very much so. But what about Tony?”

 

Cait covers her face with her hands. She can’t believe she’s going to admit this. “I’ve never been with him. You were fucking half of LA, and I looked so pathetic pining after you. I was so sick of looking pitiful and going to every gala alone. My friend Tony was in a lot of debt after opening The Library Pub, so we made a deal.”

 

“Cait, please look at me.” He reaches across the space between them and gently takes her hands from her face. His look is intense and he shakes. “I haven’t been with a woman since I met you. Ron was afraid that people would think I was gay, so I regularly showed up with blondes. You should know by now that I prefer brown-haired lasses.”

 

She takes a deep breath and braces herself for his answer. “What about Mackenzie?”

 

“Tried to make you jealous.” He sheds a tear and tries to smile.

 

Joy and relief overcome her and the world around her melts away. For the first time in years, her body and mind start to relax. The walls that made her strong collapse. As they come tumbling down, tears burst forth like water from a dam.

 

Heavy drops of rain fall from the sky and mingle with her tears. Sam kisses her forehead. “I love you, Cait. I always have.” The rain tumbles down mercilessly like it means to wash away the past.

 

She glances into his blue eyes and sees him studying her lips. She run her fingers over the stubble on his cheeks. His thumb brushes her lower lip and her lips part in anticipation, inviting him. He leans down and captures her mouth with his. It’s warm and soft and tastes like beer and peppermint and Sam. Her heart races.

 

He gently lifts her off the ground and pulls her closer. Rain runs down their faces. The kiss is tender at first, but grows more passionate with every second and causes her to shiver in complete pleasure. Their on-screen kisses were nothing compared to the real deal.

 

A bolt of lightning breaks their kiss too soon and they’re left breathless. Sam regretfully gets up and reaches for her hand. “It’s getting dangerous, we have to get back.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not sure whether I should leave the story at that or add another chapter. Let me know what you think.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the comments and encouragement. Any feedback is always very welcome.  
> This chapter deals with Cait's family, so I want to point out that this is a work of fiction.

 

 

Their wet clothes cling to their overheated bodies as they run through the muddy fields. The truth and the kiss set them free, and they’re both grinning like fools. Cait’s limping a little and slows down once they reach the poorly lit street. The rain is a light drizzle now, and the earthy, wet-road scent invades their noses.

 

She gives him a once-over. “Are you wearing that shirt to impress my parents?”

 

He smirks. “I’m actually more impressive without a shirt.”

 

“Sam!” She hits him playfully.

 

How he missed the lighthearted Cait. “Sexy shoes, by the way.”

 

She rolls her eyes. “Hey, my feet are still sore.”

 

“You’re quite appealing nonetheless, and you’re the perfect height for this.” He lightly bites her temptingly creamy neck. It tastes like sweet pineapple. While he softly kisses her neck, he strokes the bottom of her delicate rib cage.

 

“Hmmmm.” She shudders and giggles.

 

Between stolen glances and subtle touches, it takes them forever to reach the Balfes. She’s finally his, and he can’t keep his hands off her.

 

“I need you to behave around my parents. No innuendo, no touching.”

 

“Yes Ma’am.”

 

* * *

 

Cait lets them into the house, but they don’t get far before a giant grey-haired man with a stern look intercepts them. “Caitriona, we expected you hours ago.”

 

She looks to the floor and studies the yellowed carpet. “I’m sorry, Dad, I didn’t know you were waiting up for me.”

 

“Who’s the gentleman?”

 

“Good evening, Sir, I’m Sam Heughan, I work with Cait.”

 

“Sergeant Balfe. Thank you for bringing her home. However, we don’t appreciate male company overnight.”

 

“Dad, we’re soaked and it’s one in the morning, please let him shower and sleep on the sofa.”

 

“Okay then. Mr. Heughan, I’ll show you to the living room while Caitriona prepares herself for bed.” Her dad is good—Sam toyed with the idea of watching Cait undress, but that is out of the question now.

 

“Thank you, Dad.” She gives Sam an apologetic glance and heads upstairs.

 

Her dad helps Sam pull out the sofa and get clothes from his car. Back in the living room, Sam stares at his hands and hopes Cait will return shortly.

 

Sergeant Balfe breaks the silence. “So you’re the one groping our daughter on international TV?”

 

Sam’s jaw drops. Is there a diplomatic answer to this? “I’m the lead actor playing Jamie.”

 

Sergeant Balfe’s face is hard, his eyes narrowed. “Lovely.” With that, he leaves for the night.

 

After long minutes, Sam’s Irish goddess appears in the doorway wearing a rich, silvery nightdress with a plunging V-neck. An avalanche of lush hair frames her face. She’s sensual and sophisticated, her elegance timeless.

 

His eyes widen. “You’re gorgeous.”

 

She smiles coyly and shows him to the bathroom. “My bedroom is below the roof. I’ll wait for you there.”

 

Still afraid of her dad, he enters her room fully clothed. A week ago, he was the king of men who could have every woman in his suite, but now he has turned into a timid teenager.

 

The vintage room is narrow and the ceiling hangs low, barely allowing him to stand. Cait is reading in bed. It’s a sight he would love to come home to every day for the rest of his life.

 

“Your mane is touching the ceiling.” Her laugh is infectious.

 

“Is this another tactic to keep boys out?”

 

“I’m the shrimp of the family, so I got the smallest room.”

 

He jumps onto the bed and tickles her. “I love shrimp.”

 

“Sam!” She giggles and writhes, and her eyes sparkle with joy. “The house has poor sound insulation, we have to be quiet.”

 

“You’re the noisy one.” He nearly falls out of the tiny bed twice as he showers her with light kisses and tickles her until her alabaster skin glows and she pants. A squeaking sound fills the room. The bed is slowly sinking in.

 

They stop moving and study each other. Wind rustles through the old trees behind the house. The room smells of wood, fresh linens, and sweet perfume. She holds on to his shoulders and snuggles closer to him. Her firm breasts are now unbearably close and almost touch his chest. Her body is like an offering, a gift waiting to be unwrapped. He holds her petite waist. The silk of her dress is unbelievably thin. “I want to go downstairs to respect your parents, but oh my, you’re sexy.”

 

She strokes his abs under his shirt, and her nipples poke through her nightgown, hard as icicles. Would they melt under his tongue? After all these years, they deserve better than to consummate their love here. He has to get away from the ice that would burn him, that would ignite a wildfire that he couldn’t stop.

 

Sam reluctantly gets up and studies the room. His arousal presses uncomfortably against his jeans. Typical of her, Cait has a collection of empty perfume bottles and fancy stones.

 

“You’re actually the first boy in this room.”

 

“How so?”

 

Cait glances up to the ceiling. “They called me ‘the giraffe’ at school, and my father being the sergeant around here didn’t exactly help me get any dates.” A long moment passes. “Sorry about my dad earlier. My career has not been easy on him.” Her smile slips. “I was brought up strictly Catholic, and this means the world to my parents. Then I go on to be a lingerie model, well, before simulating sex in front of a camera.” Tears shimmer in her eyes.

 

He doesn’t know what to say, so he walks over to her, wraps his arms around her, and strokes her back.

 

She hides her face in his neck. “Many years ago, Dad had an angry outburst at work because some idiots called me a prostitute and teased him with lingerie pictures of me. He lost his beloved job and never really recovered from it. I’m such a disappointment to my parents. Almost forty, no respectable job, no husband, no kids.”

 

“I’m so sorry, Cait. I’m sure they love you unconditionally. You have a challenging job that you worked very hard for and you have me. You’ll always have me.” He brushes her hair back and kisses her lips. “Come home to Glasgow with me tomorrow.” He holds her until she falls asleep in his arms before he settles for the cold sofa downstairs.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the raciest thing I've ever written (I'm blaming it on the cheap champagne), so I'm in desperate need of some feedback.

 

 

_Glasgow, the next day._

 

The afternoon sun barely penetrates the leadlights of The Pot Still, scarcely illuminating the dark wooden floor. Young, howling backpackers compete with the Celtic punk music playing in the background. Cait downs an amber liquid that warms her soul and lets her forget her troubles with her parents. Booze and Sam are her greatest vices, and mixed together they make for an intoxicating cocktail, which she welcomes after this Odyssean week.

 

Right after dropping off their luggage at their apartments, Cait and Sam came to their favorite pub looking for food, but somehow settled for alcohol instead. They were careful not to touch each other on the plane, but in their secluded booth, they feel more liberated. They sit very close, and their arms brush every time Sam takes a sip of his Pale Ale. Warmth radiates from his body. He emanates the scent of exotic resins and spicy sandalwood, and puts her under his spell.

 

He plays with her hair and tells her that she’s beautiful.

 

She giggles girlishly in her alcoholic stupor. They’ll soon have to figure out what their future looks like. Will they go public with their relationship? Does he even consider her his girlfriend? They’ve always been good at flirting and communicating with their eyes, and never good at laying things out on the table. In the past, it had to be that way—some things had to remain unspoken. She has been rejecting her feelings for him for so long that it’s difficult for her to fully open up now. So she resorts to what she does best and seductively caresses his back, hoping to provoke a reaction from him.

 

It works. He looks into her eyes, his own dark and dangerous. “Remember when we had our first sex scene together?” His voice becomes huskier and his accent more pronounced. “I caressed yer full breast and felt ye shiver under my firm touch. Ye struggled to maintain yer composure, and soon requested a break to eat something in yer trailer, but when ye came back, I heard yer stomach growling. So I’ve been wondering ever since, what did ye do in yer trailer?”

 

Her pulse quickens and her face flushes. “This is so embarrassing.”

 

His hand is on her thigh, very close to her center, and he leans in. His teeth graze her earlobe. “Is it?”

 

The sound of his voice vibrates down her spine and leaves her body tingling. She leans against the cold, raw concrete wall behind her. As she closes her eyes, the memories creep back in. From the moment he stood before her in all his glory, she’d been unable to move. She was mesmerized by his strong, masculine body. She suddenly became very aware of her own nudity, of her pale skin, of the heaviness of her breasts, of his stare, of the people filming them. This newfound awareness overwhelmed and aroused her. His touch was oil to the fire burning inside of her, and she had to get away from the set.

 

“Sam, touch me. Touch me like I touched myself that day.”

 

He swallows thickly and moves away from her. “Oh, not so fast. First I’ll tease ye like ye’ve been teasing me all these years.”

 

Hoping for friction to alleviate her aching need, she presses her legs together. “I’ve never teased you.”

 

“Oh, yeah? I can very well recall the day ye dropped yer robe and didn’t wear yer modesty patch. I knew ye were waxed, but wow. Ye killed all the lads on the set.” There’s raw lust in his voice.

 

“I just felt strange and uncomfortable wearing that ugly thing.”

 

“Ugly was what we were going for! Ugly kept me sane.” He turns crimson and leaves for the toilets.

 

She snickers at her triumph.

 

For long minutes, she stares blankly at the inverted bottles on the wall behind the counter. When Sam returns, he carries a giant club sandwich and chips. “I think some food will do us good and sober you up.”

 

After eating in silence, they leave the pub. With the coffee they grabbed at Starbucks, they head to George Square, which Sam calls the heart of Scotland. They sit on a bench facing the Glasgow City Chambers. She thinks about the infamous Black Friday and shivers run down her spine at the historic heaviness this place carries.

 

As if reading her thoughts, Sam turns to her. “Ye ken, it was around here that Harry Hopkins gave his after-dinner speech on America’s behalf, quoting from the Book of Ruth: “Whither thou goest I will go, and whither thou lodgest I will lodge. Thy people shall be my people, and thy God my God.” This brought Churchill to tears, and changed the course of the Second World War.”

 

“Wow.” She’s always admired his knowledge of historical facts that he’d never admit to having.

 

The sun bathes them in its light, and the golden beams provide gentle heat. They sit in comfortable silence for at least an hour.

 

He suddenly seems agitated. “Cait, yer voice broke when ye said ye had no husband. Is this something ye’d want?”

 

“I used to think of marriage as archaic, but the older I get, the more I seek stability in my life. I moved so often, I’ve never had a place that I could call home. And our show could get canceled any day. Who knows if I’d find another acting job at my age?” She pauses. “It probably sounds stupid, but I think marriage is something my heart desires.”

 

“I never wanted to get married, but I changed my mind after reading about Claire and Jamie. It’s the highest commitment ye can give to the person ye love.” He flashes her a suggestive smile. “And it’s kind of hot knowing no one but ye will touch yer wife ever again.”

 

Sam takes her hands, and she can feel him trembling. When he drops down on one knee, her heart stops. “Caitriona, I love ye with all my heart and soul. Where ye go, I’ll go; and where ye lodge, I’ll lodge; yer people shall be my people, and yer God my God. Will ye marry me?”

 

Her tears fall freely and she drops to her knees as well. “Sam, I meant to say it yesterday. I love you, too. You have no idea how much. Of course I’ll marry you.” They both cry. He kisses her feverishly, not caring that they’re in public. The kiss brims with promises, and she falls in love with him all over again.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is the last chapter of this story so I turned up the heat some more. I hope you enjoy it.

 

 

Sam gets up and lends Cait a hand. While he dusts off his jeans, she brushes away her tears and smooths her denim dress down over her delicious curves. Her silver-drop earrings dangle in the wind, and her shiny long hair catches the last rays of the evening sun.

 

“Cait, let’s go before the City Chambers close.”

 

“You want to get married right now?”

 

“Aye, why not? We’ve wasted so much time already.”

 

“Sam, that’s crazy.” The gleam in her eye contradicts what she’s saying.

 

“Crazy like our jobs, our lives, our love. Unless ye fancy a big white wedding?”

 

“Oh, please no.”

 

“Come on then.” He takes her hand, and with determined steps, walks them toward the impressive Victorian building and their future.

 

“Wait. I hate running—I just pretended to like it because you do.”

 

“I ken.” He grins and continues walking, dragging his fiancée along.

 

“Wait. I snore in my sleep.”

 

“I won’t hear it over the sound of my own snoring.” He kisses her nose playfully.

 

They’re passing the lion sculptures and are close to the main entrance now.

 

“And I don’t want any kids.”

 

“Me neither. Is that all?”

 

“I guess so.” She giggles.

 

They halt in front of the door and Sam smiles reassuringly at her. His heart nearly bursts with anticipation. “Ready?”

 

She stands right next to him, beautiful and elegant as ever, firmly holds his hand, and smiles the brightest of smiles. “Ready.”

 

* * *

 

_On set, seven weeks later_

 

“Open your eyes.” Cait beams at Sam as he obeys her, staring in wonder. They’re in a luxurious outdoor tent with a bubbling hot tub. Dozens of candles flicker and illuminate the tent. She arranged it all for him because he was so tired of sneaking in and out of her trailer every night. “It’s Maril’s hot tub, but she happily let me have it tonight. I think she’s sorry for me after my staged breakup with Tony.”

 

“It’s perfect. Like ye.” They kiss slowly. She closes her eyes and cherishes the feel of his soft lips against her own. They taste of his honey lip balm. How she envied that stupid Chap Stick all these years. Sam runs his fingers through her hair as he deepens the kiss. She clings to his neck to steady herself. Crickets chirp and the wind blows against the tent walls. Even though it’s one of the last warm summer nights, she shivers and breaks the kiss.

 

“I think you’ll like the bathing suit I chose for tonight.” She steps away, looks straight at him sultrily, and slowly undresses herself one piece at a time. As her dress drops to the floor, so does his jaw. Now only in her lacy underwear and red Manolo Blahnik, she lets her hair down and sways her hips to a sexy song she plays in her head to give her confidence. She unhooks her bra and lets it drop. Her pale breasts glow in the candlelight.

 

His hungry eyes rake her body and his breath quickens. She feels desired and sexy, and holds her full breasts in her hands and strokes her nipples with her thumbs. Her nipples are stiff from the cold air and her mounting excitement. Her fingers lazily trail down her stomach and play with the hem of her panties. She glides her hand under the lace and massages herself. She imagines his strong hand down there and moans softly.

 

His breath hitches. “Cait, please let me touch ye.”

 

He’s still fully clothed when she steps out of her panties. She enjoys standing bare and vulnerable before him. It reminds her of all the times she had to be naked as Claire, only now she’s in charge.

 

“Then come get me.”

 

She giggles, takes off her high heels, and hops into the hot tub.

 

Clothes fly everywhere as Sam undresses with lightning speed, which reveals his muscular body. He grabs the golden Cachaça he brought and climbs in as well.

 

Cait studies the bottle. “Velho Barreiro? You’re a fast learner, Mr. Heughan.” She drinks straight from it, and the savory liquor burns down her throat while the hot, whirling water caresses her skin. The water barely covers her breasts and her nipples peek out every now and then.

 

He stands waist-deep in front of her, only a breath away. Water drips down his toned chest, and his arousal presses against her leg. His eyes are fixated on her breasts. The smell of chlorinated water and Sam’s cologne renders her dizzy. He takes a gulp of Cachaça right before he kisses her hard, and she can taste South America on his lips.

 

She runs her fingernails down the steaming skin of his bare chest, then down lower into the water where she encircles his impressive length. He moans at the contact and takes a nipple between his lips to taste her.

 

She winces. “We should stop while we still can. We can’t have intercourse in Maril’s hot tub.”

 

“I’ll focus on ye then, but ye have to stop touching me.” His hands roam over her thighs. Sam’s a skilled and careful lover who worships her with every touch. He caresses her bare folds, and she squeezes her eyes shut and rests her head against the tub. He licks her breasts, raw stubble against delicate skin.

 

The short and rhythmic strokes on her center make her moan out loud, and she rubs against his hands to increase the delicious friction. She’s slowly losing herself in him. With each stroke, she gets closer. He plays with her throbbing core before he thrusts two thick fingers inside. Her muscles tighten and her breathing gets irregular. Her senses are heightened—she’s so close now. A violent wave is building up inside her.

 

She needs more and pushes harder against his hand. His thumb presses down on her swollen clit and rubs it in circles over and over again. He ravishes her breasts and increases the pace and pressure of the strokes on her clit until she’s on the edge of her fading consciousness.

 

Harder. Faster. He rubs her until a giant flood of sensation washes through her. She rocks against his hand and rides out her orgasm, and her body pulsates in all the right places. She quivers all around his hand but he doesn’t stop. It’s almost too intense. He keeps stroking her harder and harder as she rides his fingers. He continues until she cries out and another orgasm washes over her, its force leaving them both breathless.

 

He holds her in his arms while she rides out the aftershocks of her orgasms. Even after long minutes, her thighs and core are still tingling.

 

“Hey Cait, can I come in? I’ve made a raspberry margarita.”

 

Maril’s voice almost gives Sam and Cait heart attacks. Cait’s really bad at thinking on her feet, especially in this condition, so she hesitates. Maril takes this as a yes and enters the tent.

 

As soon as she sees the pair, she drops the glass in shock. “Oh my goodness! I thought you were alone!” She stares at the grass and tries not to look at them. “Please have your rebound sex somewhere else.” She’s angry.

 

Cait turns crimson. “Maril, I’m so sorry for not telling you, but it’s not what you think. We didn’t have intercourse, and we’re serious about each other.”

 

“So are you an item now?”

 

“Actually, we’re married.”

 

“Goodness gracious! Get dressed and come talk to me in my trailer.” With that, she storms off.

 

Cait sighs. “I feel horrible that I disappointed Maril, but I’m also relieved that our secret is finally out.”

 

“Me too. And we’ll deal with Maril, the crew, our fans, and our parents.” He takes her hand and searches her eyes. “Our love transcends everything. For better or for worse, for richer or for poorer.”

 

She smiles as she looks into the most beautiful and loving eyes. “In sickness and in health, until death do us part.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing this story made me very happy and so did all of your comments, kudos and reads. Thank you very much!  
> Thank you seablue4u for the idea that someone could find out about them.


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